


I got him back

by LeeRyuk



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Car Accident, Depression, Humor, M/M, Major character death in his former life, Rating Might Change, Rebirth-stuff, Tennis, University, Weird dreams, i hope this wont turn as a huge gay party again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeRyuk/pseuds/LeeRyuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is a Univeristy AU in which Marco has woken up from a deep coma and ends up living the rest of his life in a wheelchair, his right leg being amputated.<br/>He has a weird dream of being in a role of a girl called Martine and as a result of coincidence he meets a guy called Jean, who maybe happens to have some information about Marco's past. Marco's mind's a blank and he hopes to find out what happened before he fell into a deep coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Marco didn't believe in rebirth, until something extraordinary happened.

Marco had a weird dream just a moment before he woke up from a deep coma. He, or better she, as his gender had changed in that dream, was driving home with her motorcycle. The sun was shining and it was a really nice summer day to use motorcycle instead of driving with her dad's old-fashioned car. She wore a blue tank top, a black slim knee-high skirt and sandals although her dad had told her to not to wear those shoes while driving. She had had a fight with her boyfriend Jean just a moment ago, during a beach party that was arranged by her classmates.

Jean had been an idiot as always, fighting with Eren and turning the whole party as a chaos. Martine, that was how people called her in that dream, knew that Jean had had a crush on Eren's sister Mikasa a long time ago, which was the most likely reason for the fights between Jean and Eren. They had almost gotten in a fist fight, Eren telling Jean that Mikasa was too good for him and Jean grabbing his collar in response. (The situation had been solved simply by Mikasa carrying his younger brother away and telling him to behave sometimes.)They had been drunk, of course, although Jean had promised not getting drunk on that night. Martine, not being capable to keep Jean from getting drunk, had left the party when the atmosphere between Jean and Eren had gotten more and more hostile. She had felt that she couldn't just take it anymore, just couldn't listen to Jean's empty promises over and over again.  
Jean had begged her to stay and have fun, obviously, but Martine had had enough already. It wasn't only because Jean had been an asshole, Martine was also jealous. Jealous because Jean had gotten too clingy with Mikasa, touching her long black hair and constantly telling her how beautiful she was, ignoring his real girlfriend completely. It was something that made Martine really angry and that feeling was followed by a brisk action.

Her home wasn't far away from the beach and it could have taken only fifteen minutes to drive if Martine had ever gotten there. Being almost half-way there, Martine heard screeching brakes and made a u-turn with her motorcycle to see what was happening behind there. That was a big mistake.  
A truck that had been driving behind her for a while, had been transporting huge logs and one of them had fallen out of the cargo, now rolling on the highway and quickly reaching Martine's motorcycle. Martine got terrified and tried to jump off her motorcycle but unfortunately her black skirt got stuck to the saddle of her motorcycle and she fell down, hitting her head to the asphalt. She tried to open her mouth to shout for help, but it was too late. She got hit by the rolling log, clearly feeling the pain of her ribs breaking in little pieces. Breathing hurt, and taking fast inhales she knew she was going to die soon. With painful tears in her eyes, she made her last wish to be able to apologize to Jean someday.  
"Jean.. I-I'm sorry.."

Those words echoed in Marco's head when he first time reached the state of somehow clear consciousness. He was able to see unclear shadows of people walking around his room, some of them leaning towards his bed. He wasn't capable to tell what was dream and what was real as the consciousness faded in and out, making him to feel dizzy and sleepy at the same time. Few hours later he started to feel pretty much more aware of things surrounding him and he even tried to open his eyes a bit, making the people talk louder around him, to even stroke his scarred cheek. Someone happily stated that he was awake, describing this as a miracle.  
Marco tried to raise his hand but for his surprise nothing happened. His hand was apparently tied up to his bed, to keep him from falling off. Marco thought it was ridiculous as he had heard, he had just woken up from a coma that he had been in, almost over three years, and there was no way to a coma patient to flee from his bed in a middle of a night.

He had started to see things more clearly now but people around him seemed anything but familiar to him. He saw a woman, around forties, she had a dark brown hair and freckles on her cheeks. There was also a girl, maybe around Marco's age, he couldn't recall how old he was now as he couldn't remember his name either, standing next to probably his mom. Marco didn't even know what did he look like. Did he have freckles just as his family did? What was his hair color? And his name? There was so many questions to be answered that Marco needed to find his voice to ask them. To find out who was he and what was the meaning of the dream he had just seen.  
He tried to speak and ask what was his name, but the voice that came out added his confusion, it wasn't girly and high like in his dream, it came out low and manly, anything but he had expected.

"You're Marco Bott, now 19 years old. Your right leg was amputated before you fell in coma and weren't able to react to the nearby environment anymore. I'm your mother and this is your sister Ymir. We've been visiting you since you fell into a coma although they said you wouldn't never wake up and.." His mother stuttered and instantly started sobbing.

"Mom.. " The freckled girl said, putting a palm on her mother's shoulder. She was his sister, named Ymir. Marco still couldn't recall being a part of any family, that made him slightly frustrated. Why couldn't his memories come back now when he the most hungered for the information? Why couldn't he just wake up and start living normal life again?  
But Marco didn't remember what was it like to live a normal life. Did he have any hobbies before he was hit by a car that had caused the severe injuries? Did he date anyone, if he did, had they left him already? Thinking about having a girlfriend, as he was a boy now, he was able to remember someone's name from the dream he had just seen.

"Mom, do you know Jean?" He asked, it felt like his throat was on fire while he spoke.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm afraid I don't." She said, glancing at the girl next to her, what was her name again? Ymir. They both looked concerned and let Marco to sleep, telling him that they were going to pick up something to eat from the cafeteria. Marco fell in a restless sleep, not seeing any dreams this time.

It was a midday when Marco woke up. He was still left alone in his room, only the TV as accompany. Someone had turned it on and there was the news going on. Marco watched at it and wondered what he saw, reports of affairs that had been happening in his hometown in a daily basis were a whole new world to him as his mind was a blank for now. Mundane activities that people took for granted, just as having a lunch in a exact time of a day fascinated him because they were a way to making a clear picture of people's regular behavior in this area. He wanted to learn everything that was necessary while becoming a proper human.

"Oh, you're awake?" His mom took a peek to his room, having a cup of coffee in her hands. Marco nodded and tried to smile a bit although it took little extra effort to remember that these people were a part of his family. He wanted to remember everything about his past but he knew it would take time to his memories to return. Maybe years or months, it could be more or less. The assumption of it had varied between the nurses he had talked to on yesterday evening.  
The back rest of his bed had been lifted up so he was in a better sitting position for eating. Marco had his right hand on the netting surrounding of the bed as his hands weren't tied anymore (the nurse had told him to be on his guard that he wouldn't fall of the bed while eating and such) and his mother, who was called Lena as Marco learnt a moment ago, gave him a cheese sandwich to eat. Marco smiled and tried to grab the cup of coffee with his right hand but ended up pouring hot coffee to his blanket.

"Wh-what's wrong with my hand?" Marco croaked, trying to wipe the coffee stains with his left hand. His sister shrugs and continues tapping her phone whereas his mom looked like she was going to burst in tears again. She shook her head, stroking Marco's right palm with her thumb, asserting that everything will be okay. Marco thought that it would be the contrary, he would find many more disorders from his body sooner or later. It was a smoking gun that he wouldn't be able to live a normal life, never again.

After the three weeks Marco spent in a hospital he was given a statement that he was free to go home. The information of being able to leave the hospital had a positive affect on his mood, regardless of the fact he had to use a wheelchair as a everyday ancillary need. Sitting in a wheelchair and being able to go nearly everywhere was everything Marco had hoped while being stuck in a stinky hospital bed, so wheelchair was more like a dream come true for him. They had left the hospital early in the morning, Ymir pushing Marco's wheelchair and his mom reading through bucket-loads of manuals that contained information how to survive with a wheelchair from the adolescence to adulthood. Marco had wanted to train his right hand, that still had problems with grabbing properly, and said he could move by himself but Ymir had disagreed and almost too violently grabbed his wheelchair and pulled him to the elevator. Ymir was the first person to make Marco laugh after they left the hospital and she seemed to be a really good person. Marco had finally thought that being part of this family wasn't bad at all.

Marco had settled down in a tiny apartment what was from now on his new home. He shared a tiny room with Ymir, who often had her friend Christa visiting her. She was a short, lively blonde haired girl who often listened to Marco's stories about his weird dream he had seen just some hours before waking up. Marco liked Christa much, so seemed Ymir as Marco had caught them lying next to each other and eyeing like lovesick puppies, that had made Marco to often question their friendship and Ymir's sexuality. Talking about his dreams, he never mentioned the names of characters he had seen. He was afraid that Chirsta, being a sharp girl, would know someone who was called Martine or Jean.  
It wasn't that Marco was afraid of being misunderstood, it was that he thought this dream had a big meaning as a part of recalling his past before the car accident.

Marco was thankful that he had woken up from a coma when it was still a Summer, as he didn't need to go to the school immediately. He couldn't still produce clear sentences without thinking every single word twice, which made communication often complicated. He was lucky to have so patient and supportive family as Lena and Ymir were, otherwise he could have ended being yelled at that he should open his mouth and learn how to talk.  
His mother wasn't mad at all, vice versa she paid loads of money to offer a therapist to her son and spent almost half of her time at home by helping him and talking with him about dreams and his past. Marco was quick to learn and after one month of taking the speaking therapy, three times in a week, he was able to speak and communicate almost as well as his contemporaries. That marked a turning point in his life, he could be able to make friends and bring out his opinions, maybe go to the school.

One day he sat on his bed, Ymir had lifted him up from a wheelchair and helped him to sit, and practiced writing with his right hand. His handwriting was still messy but as he was dead set to start going into school next fall he wanted to learn how to write on his own. Ymir sat on the opposite side of the room in a reddish armchair and tapped her iPad, apparently talking to Christa, judging by the wide smile on her face.

"What's your relationship to Christa?" Marco asked and Ymir stopped tapping. She didn't usually blush, as she was a tough girl and stuff, but Marco was sure his eyes didn't lie when he saw a little shade of red appearing on Ymir's cheeks.

"It's none of your business." Ymir said and glared back, trying to keep her face as normal as possible. But the redness on her face didn't want to disappear. Marco just laughed and stretched his hand, enough writing for today he thought and threw his pencil on a maroon shelf.

"I want to go shopping." He said and Ymir put her iPad away frowning a bit.

"I'm not going to carry you around from a fitting room to another, ask your mom." Ymir said and didn't seem really eager to go anywhere. Marco knew she hated shopping centers what was weird as she was a young girl. Weren't diamonds and new clothes woman's best friends? Marco laughed again and told her he just needed some fresh air and few new t-shirts, before the sales of them would be back to incredibly high, and added that he could try them easily just by sitting in a wheelchair.

"We can ask Christa too?" He continued begging and asked Ymir to lend her iPad for a second just to make sure the shopping center wouldn't be on verge of closing when they arrived. Ymir had no other choices than agreeing going with Marco and she phoned to Christa that they'd meet in a park nearby, in 30 minutes.

When they arrived in a local park, Christa was already there waiting for them. When she saw Ymir and Marco coming she started to wave and run towards them as if she was a hyper energetic kangaroo. Ymir hugged her for a hello and glanced at Marco while hugging, Marco just grinned and earned a little light punch to his shoulder for that. He knew Ymir and Christa were more than best friends, although she didn't want to admit that.  
They went to look for some new pairs of high heels to Chirsta who apparently was addicted to wearing them, to look taller beside Ymir in photos and the like. Marco, for his surprise, didn't get bored at any rate, for him it was more fun to hang out with someone than look at Ymir's grumpy face when he tried to get some information of Christa out of her. They actually found five pairs of shoes and almost forgot what they came to look for. When Ymir and Christa planned going in a newly-opened café nearby, Marco said he would skip drinking coffee and go for buying some t-shirts on his own. Ymir didn't want to let his brother to go all alone, but Marco asserted that he'd be more than fine, having a mobile with him in a case of emergency.

So, Marco left to a store that seemed to have some men's shirts, exactly to him liking. He went in with his wheelchair and was happy to notice a friendly shop assistant who came to help him almost immediately. She was a girl around Marco's age, with a long brown hair and talkative-personality, she introduced herself as Sasha while asking how could she help Marco.  
Marco wanted to try some new shirts and Sasha helped him by pushing his wheelchair to a nearest fitting room. First shirt was a long-sleeve shirt, green and it had some black lines on it. It was nothing out of ordinary and didn't really suit Marco at all, so he decided to try another one.The second shirt was more tight than the first one, it was a blue short sleeved blouse that suited Marco almost perfectly and it was a shirt he could imagine wearing in public.  
He paid it and was happy with his purchase while going out of the store and waving to Sasha for goodbye. He was happy knowing that there were still people who knew how to treat customers as humans.

Marco dug his pockets with his sights set on finding his mobile phone that he could interrupt Ymir and Christa by giving them a call and asking them to pick him up. After a while he found his phone and took it in his right hand, just to train it a bit again. With the benefit of hindsight he knew it wasn't a good idea but he was dead set using his right hand to slide the lock screen open that he didn't notice 'parking' his wheelchair in a unsteady part of the asphalt. It was not until his wheelchair swung threateningly and his phone slipped out of his hand and rolled somewhere out of his sight.

"Are you okay?" Someone shouted and ran towards Marco, lifting his wheelchair in a straight position with ease. He was a familiar looking guy with two-toned hair and sharp, long facial features, wide smile on his face.

"Y-yeah, thanks.." Marco said and tried to look for his mobile with his sight.

"You must be looking for this." The guy says and picks up a phone, handing it over to Marco. Marco thanks him by turning a bit that he could see his helper's face clearly. But when he does it, the guy freezes in place, his jaw dropping nearly to the ground.

"M-Martine?" He stutters and takes two steps closer as if to see him closer, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown. Marco leans back in his wheelchair because this guy's behavior looks way too overhanging to him.

"No. I'm Marco." He says, trying to flee from the situation. This guy's friend comes for his help by shouting to his friend  
"Jean, cmon! Don't freak out every guy you meet, let's go!" And this guy, called Jean, leaves by muttering apologies to Marco for mistaking from a person. He leaves Marco to sit alone, staring at his phone, confused. The dream he had seen a long time ago returns as a memory when he taps Ymir's name to send her a message.

'I just met Jean.' He types, hoping Ymir could recall the dream that he has told her, over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean couldn't get this Martine-looking guy out of his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean's POV this time. Prepare for angsty Jean..

Loosing Martine had been painful to Jean, who had taken her death really personally. After Jean had heard the news he had collapsed to the floor and cried, tears running down his cheeks like a waterfall. The air had rushed out of his lungs and he had struggled to get a breath, as if he was a hundred feet under water. Martine had been angry at him during her very last moments and it was his fault she was now gone. Jean wouldn't be able to see her shiny eyes ever again, wouldn't be able to hear her laughter or see her smile. It had hurt, felt like someone pushing a sharp knife straight through his bleeding heart.

Weeks had passed and Jean had felt like living in a bubble of fog that tried to choke every single piece of his zest of life. His life without Martine felt like taking tons of crippling medicine every day, he struggled to get himself out of bed and everything except sleeping took an extra effort from him. Even his hate towards Eren had faded in a thin air as he was too tired to fight with anyone. All he wanted to do was to sleep and stare into darkness through the window of his bedroom. He stared at the window, every night, as if hoping Martine would come back and climb into his room from that window, but she didn't. It was just Jean, sitting alone in his chair, hoping to get the girl of his life back.

Weeks turned into months and Jean's condition didn't get any better, vice versa he looked like a dead fish every single morning he dragged himself to downstairs and ate two pieces of dry bread with a bad appetite. He had lost some weight and he had dark circles under his eyes resulting in crying himself sleep at night.

"Mornings.." He said, forcing a fake smile to his lips when his mom hurried to boil some water for tea.

Jean had never actually liked it, he had drunk tea because the green one had been Martines favorite. They had drunk it together, Martine leaning to him, cuddling. She had laughed at Jean's stupid jokes and almost spilled her tea on Jean's shirt. It had been perfect, but now that all happiness was gone. Martine had died in a horrible car crash, or a motorcycle crash you might say. It didn't matter which one it was, she wouldn't be able to drink tea with Jean anymore. 

"I actually ate already." Jean said, stood up and left the kitchen. One lonely tear dropped on his cheek and started falling down. Jean swept it away, the feeling of choking had returned again and it felt like someone was back hugging him way too hard, crushing his chest in lonely little pieces.  
He hated tea. Even the smell of it made him recall the time he had spent with Martine. Martine, whose body had injured so badly, being hit by a log, that the only clearly recognizable part of her body was the right leg. Even her beautiful face had tasted the power of asphalt so badly, that the last expression on it wasn't able to be seen anymore. There had only been a limb left of the person Jean had loved the most in this world. Only a limb.  
He walked up the stairs and flopped on his bed, crying. Why had this everything happened to a sweet, kind girl like Martine? She didn't deserve to die, Jean had been the asshole who had deserved to die instead. 

It had been Connie who got him out of his sad mood one day. He had paid a call to his friend who was sleeping and drowning himself into sadness day after day. Jean had been unwilling to answer, for sure, but he had still picked up a call from his best friend.

"Fancy playing tennis today? Drag your ass over here, the everyone is waiting for you."

Tennis. Jean had loved plying it since he was a kid but stopped doing it after he had started dating Martine. She had complained about the lack of Jean's interest towards their relationship because he was playing tennis, all the time. So Jean had quitted playing it hoping he'd get more time to spend with his girlfriend. He had been wrong, as always.

"Uh, I'm not sure if I-.." Jean tried to withstand as he didn't feel like playing today. But Connie didn't want to give up.

"C'mon. You've slept for years there, it's time to have some fun okay?" Have fun. How could he have fun without Martine around? That was impossible, Jean thought but decided to give it a try.

"Fine, I'll be there. And beat that Jaeger-ass sixty-zero." Jean concurred and even smiled a bit. He knew Eren, Reiner, Bertl and Connie would be there at least, that was how it had always been. He didn't know if Mikasa and Sasha were playing with them, as he had heard about Sasha's part-time job as shop assistant he assumed she was absent and Connie needed a friend to comfort him when loosing against so called 'Tennis kings' as known as Bertl and Reiner.

"That sounds more like Jean I know. See ya." Connie laughed and dropped the line cursing out loud. Jean assumed he had been hit in the head by a tennis ball as he heard Reiner laughing in the background.  
Jean stood up and looked through his window and noticed it wasn't so warm outside anymore. Summer was turning as fall soon, school would start again also. Some random lyrics he had heard came up to his mind and a familiar sounding song started playing in his head. 

And Summer just reminds me of your warm smile  
Just like the sunshine and the long nights we spent

Cos' days turn into weeks  
I watch the seasons change  
But I'm still waiting  
Waiting for this feeling to fade

Jean sighed. He was supposed to have fun now, not to reminisce about Martine. He dressed up, took his old-fashioned tennis racket with him and walked out of his house for the first time in months. Sunshine felt odd for a while but Jean got used to it as he walked towards the tennis court where he could spot his mates. He could clearly see Connie and Reiner running around the low net that was stretched across the court. Bertl was also there, sweating nervously and trying to calm Reiner down. Eren cheered at those two and looked like over-eager schoolgirl with a tennis racket. Idiots, Jean thought and smiled. It felt great to get hang out with them for a long time.

"Yo. Look the horse-face is back." Eren welcomed him as Jean arrived at the court. Reiner and Connie stopped running and Bertl seemed facilitated as he sat on the court and swept sweat off his forehead.

"Yeah. And I'm going to beat you jackass." Jean said glaring at Eren and stepped inside of the tram lines. 

"Guys, calm down." It was Reiner who spoke up and began explaining the rules they had been using before Jean arrived. Jean nodded as a sign of apprehension and was more than eager now to beat Eren at tennis. They had used to play two against two, one sitting on the nearest bench and being in a role of court judge, that was needed especially when there was an inconsistent situation between the players. It was Bert's turn to sit out as he was the tallest and saw everything that happened on the court with ease. Although Reined had wanted to play with Bertl and begged him to stay as his 'Tennis king'- mate, Bertl had sat on the bench asserting it would be okay to him to rest for a while. So the first match was Connie and Eren against Reiner and Jean. 

Playing tennis wasn't that bad as Jean had thought at first. It distracted his thoughts from sad things for a while and it was good exercise for his sleepy body that hadn't done any sports during the past months. With the exception of his newly raised anger towards Eren, he enjoyed the time he spent with these guys, it was freeing to laugh at their stupid jokes and run across the court when Reiner seemed to be unable to catch the ball. All in all it felt good to have a life outside of the four walls of his bedroom. 

They played six games in a set and three sets in a match. Jean had assigned himself on the right side of the court as he found it easier to play on that side. Reiner was on the left and there was no saying that he wasn't good at what he did. He was the undisputed star of this court who had played tennis, also in the official school games.

"Jean watch out! Don't step out of the baseline!" Jean didn't actually like to be given orders but there was no disobeying when you played with Reiner who was two times more muscular than Jean was. He could actually bet his head Reiner had eaten something more than the ordinary meat and sausages.

Playing for two hours, they decided to take a break after Jean had served a let, hitting the net three times in a row. He wasn't the only one who looked exhausted, it had been an active play after all. 

"We should get something to drink. Beer, soda, anyone?" Connie submitted and covered his head with a brown boater. Bertholdt laughed at him saying he looked like a grandpa with his hat and Eren agreed with him trying to take that hat from Connie. Everyone nodded as a sign of agreement, they had played tennis for two hours and the court felt hot like a huge barbecue, in addition nearly every single one of them swept sweat from their faces and forehead. 

"I'll take soda." Jean murmured as he didn't feel like getting drunk at all. He could clearly remember what had happened last time he got drunk at the beach - Martine had gotten angry because of it and left quickly when Jean had wanted to hang out with Mikasa. He couldn't clearly recall what had caused her angry reaction and the brisk action following it, but it must have had something to do with Mikasa. Jean should ask her about it when he'd get to see her again.

"Okay soda for everyone." Reiner laughed and added "Jean and Conny its your turn to go shopping today. Besides, horses can get there faster than humans." 

"Fuck you Reiner." Jean hissed and threw a tennis ball at him but it accidentally hit Bertholdt on the shoulder. Bertholdt startled and threw the ball back at Jean rubbing his own shoulder. Bertl seemed to be fine but Connie and Jean left the court hearing Reiner asking him million times if he was okay or not. Jean rolled his eyes at them, it had been just a ball after all.

When they arrived at their destination, Jean spotted a dark-haired guy in a wheelchair. He marked that this guy was clearly looking for something with his gaze and stopped to see if he was doing okay. He didn't know why he felt like helping that guy if something was wrong, maybe it was because of the heat and he was loosing his mind.  
The guy didn't seem to be in trouble as he took a mobile from his pocket and apparently was up to call someone, maybe a friend or so as he seemed to be alone. Jean turned to leave asserting he had overreacted again, maybe it was Martines death that had had an influence on his behavior. 

But when Jean was up to leave he heard a grinding sound when the wheelchair of that boy at his age started to swing threateningly and it looked like the guy was going to fall down at any moment. Jean found himself running towards him, leaving Connie to wonder all alone what had happened. 

"Are you okay?" Jean shouted while running fast to make his way there before this guy would fall completely down. He reached the wheelchair in time and helped to lift it in a straight position. It was easy for him as he had used to help his granny who was now temporally tied to a wheelchair because of the knee surgery that she had taken some time ago. The guy didn't seem hurt, which was good as that was the last thing Jean wanted to do, hurt an unknown person in a wheelchair. 

"Y-yeah, thanks.." This dark-haired guy said and apparently looked for something with his gaze. Jean knew immediately what it was, it was the phone he had seen this guy using some time ago. 

"You must be looking for this." He kneeled down and picked it up, handing the phone over him as Jean wished to see his face better, maybe he could even get a new friend from this guy, who knows, as Jean was really charming and an easy going guy who the most people he had met, liked.  
Jean's wish was fulfilled when this guy turned to thank and he was able to see his face clearly. He had light brown eyes, freckles on his cheek and an innocent-looking facial features that could have melted every single person on the earth. He even smiled a bit and that expression on his face made Jean's jaw drop. He froze in place, staring at this guy. He had seen that smile somewhere before, those freckles, those shiny light brown kind eyes. 

"M-Martine?" Jean stuttered and took two steps closer with his rigid legs. This guy looked like her, he could have sworn that he was Martine's long lost twin brother or the new male shape of her. What if it hadn't been Martine's body that had had been lying unrecognizably next to the huge log. What if she was still alive, living somewhere and not being able to recall her past? Jean glanced over this guy's body, he was missing a right leg that had apparently been amputated. Right leg. That was the only part that had been left of Martine's beautiful body. Maybe this was a miracle, maybe he had gotten Martine back somehow? 

"No. I'm Marco." He answered looking a bit horrified because of Jean's eager behavior. Jean couldn't keep himself from staring at this guy. Marco? What was that name? Jean felt like wanting to grab this Marco's shoulders and shake him to wake him up and tell he was not Marco. He was Martine, the girl who Jean had loved more than anyone in this world. He was his Martine, Martine who had died in a horrible accident, who had left Jean to suffer alone in this painful and lonely world. Jean nearly put a hand on Marco's shoulder but Connie had noticed that he was going to do something weird again and came for Marco's help. 

"Jean, cmon! Don't freak out every guy you meet, let's go" Connie shouted waving a box of soda bottles at him to notify that he had bought them already and was ready to leave back to where the others were. Jean blinked and muttered sorries for Marco, turning around and thinking he had gone insane. He almost freaked out a random guy by telling him he was his deceased girlfriend who had just lost her memory and been born as a guy this time. That would freak out any guy in this world. Definitely. 

"I'm going insane.." Jean spoke to himself while walking towards Connie who was waiting him with the soda bottles. Maybe he still hadn't gotten over the fact Martine was now gone and he couldn't get her back even he hoped and prayed for it every night. It was impossible, totally impossible.

***

On that night Jean couldn't get Marco out of his head. He was thinking about the similarities between him and Martine. They looked like each other, they really did and the missing right leg made Jean question everything he had learnt about death and the ghosts that were, according to his parents, not real. Even rebirth didn't exist in this world. But Jean couldn't stop thinking about him, he felt like he wanted to hug this guy. To see if holding him felt the same than holding Martine. He bet that would feel more than better after the pain he had experienced. He wanted to smell this guy's scent in his nose and to compare if he even smelled better than Martine did. Jean knew somehow he did, Marco had been just too adorable to be true, just too innocent to hold, he wanted to kiss-

Hold on. Jean thought and covered his face with a pillow. 

No. I'm not having a crush on that guy, oh god Jean. You are a man.. Okay I was thinking that just because of he looks like Martine. That's it. I'm goddamn straight guy. I'm just sleepy, now sleep Jean, sleep. He thought and fell in a restless sleep, dreaming about Marco of course, and Martine. Hoping he could get an opportunity to see this guy again someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter done! I'm so happy because of all the kudos and hits ~ Thanks for reading and leave a comment letting me to know what you think about this fic. Some school stuff coming next time ~
> 
> (Sorry I can't edit this text well with my iPad so I'm going to fix it later when I get to use the computer..)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New university and the story of a wonderful sibling.

"You met who?" Ymir asked again moving her gaze from her phone to Marco. They were having breakfast downstairs and Ymir had finally seen Marco's message, actually two weeks late. Marco wouldn't usually have gotten nuts because of one stupid text message, but the one he had sent to Ymir, had been really important to him. 

"Is it bit of an issue to check your text messages or what is it?" Marco sighed and slid fingers through his bangs. Ymir didn't seem to care, vise versa, she kept chatting with her friends a smug grin on her face. 

"Well sorry, I saw it now. So what's the matter?" She asked raising her eyebrows at Marco, questioning.

"I sent that two weeks ago??" Marco said, sighing again. Ymir just nodded and kept tapping her phone as if she'd have something seriously important on it. Christa, Marco thought and shook his head. They were so in love, using every sort if pet names and all, and they still kept insisting they were just good friends. Best friends.

"Friends with benefits." Marco muttered and took a sip from his morning coffee that had already started cooling down. Ymir stopped tapping and stared back at him. No, she didn't only stare, her glare was full of murderous anger for few seconds, before it disappeared when her mom stepped in the kitchen. She carried a basket of homemade bread on the table and put the kettle on, humming a familiar melody. 

"Shall we have some morning tea, children?" She asked smiling gently. Marco didn't mind drinking another cup of liquid, as his coffee had already tasted pretty vague and he had discarded it because of that. So he just nodded handing his cup over to Lena, adding:  
"The green one please, it feels like it has always been my favorite." 

Marco had gotten used to doing the morning routines in a specific order, and that was something he didn't want to change, so thats why he had hard times thinking, how could he manage on the first day of school next week. There was no denying that he needed help with his routines and all, due to being trapped in a wheelchair, but he didn't know if Ymir was alert enough to help him on mornings. And as he had seen how reckless Ymir could be, he didn't want to count on her getting all that help he'd need. So, he had to make a plan two and build himself some kind of obstacle course to get out of bed by himself next morning. Next morning would be an experiment for him, an experiment called 'fall or not to fall'.

The arch he had built was pretty obscure at its shape and it aroused attention among Ymir's friends. 

"Yo Marco, are you training for the olympics or whats that?" Reiner asked and gave a friendly pat to his shoulder, laughing. Reiner hanged usually around with his tall and skinny friend called Bert or Bertl, which was the way Reiner usually called him. They seemed also pretty close, sometimes even closer than Ymir and Christa were. Sometimes this gang of friends looked more like a bunch of gays hanging around. It wasn't that Marco had nothing against them, he had just fun time following how these people covered their actions by unbelievable subterfuges, just as "We've got to go downstairs to get some tissues for Bertl" and so on. 

"No." He said laughing and shook his head. "I built it that I could get up by myself on mornings. Ymir's being too lazy to help so.. " Marco continued and shrugged. Actually that was only the half of the truth as Marco was an ardent person and had a strong will to become as independent as possible. He didn't want to be dependent on everyones help for the rest of his life.

"Ymir, did you hear that? You're lazy!" Reiner shouted to Ymir who had already disappeared from the room and spent time somewhere in downstairs with Christa. 

"No she's not!" Christa shouted back and the whole room bursted in laugh. The relationship between them was so adorable that you couldn't anything but laugh. Marco was actually happy seeing Ymir with her after those years she had spent depressed, ignoring everyone. That had happened when they were at the age of eight. Ymir had been bullied because of standing against of the guys who had made fun of Marco because of his freckles. Marco had been thankful to her because of that, but in the meantime cried his eyes out because of the bad condition of his older sister. After all Ymir had left that all to past and gotten over of it because of the good care she had been given. Her sacrifice was something that Marco admired her for, and now, it was kinda Ymir's turn to return the care and favor. And Marco was glad noticing she really did it.

Wait a second. Marco stopped in the middle of his thoughts and stared at Bert randomly. He apparently started to feel uncomfortable taking distance to Marco and surreptitiously sat more close to Reiner, sweating. Reiner noticed that and also marked Marcos frozen stare.

"Marco, hey? The earth is calling." 

"Wh-what? Oh, sorry Bertl." Marco apologized blinking his eyes. The reason causing his reaction had been the fact he had realized being able to remember something. Maybe his brain damage hadn't been sufficient enough to destroy all of his memories.

"I think I just recalled something from my childhood." Marco said looking for Ymir with his gaze. He needed Ymir to make sure that the memory had been equivalent to the truth. Reiner understood the situation and called for Ymir, who unwillingly dragged herself and Christa, clinging on her arm, up the stairs. She made a grumpy face sitting on Marcos bed and asked  
"What is it now?" 

Marco felt a bit guilty interrupting her like this, but his memory was important enough to cover the pain of walking up the stairs. He didn't know how to start so as a result of confusion he opened his mouth and closed it immediately without emitting a noise, alike to a fish suffocating on the ground.  
"I.. Ymir. Were you bullied when we were younger?" Marco asked eventually, staring at his wheelchair, not being capable to meet Ymir's eyes. He knew asking something like that out of the blue, would make anyone angry or sad.

Ymir's face dropped and she glanced at Christa quickly, as if considering whether it was time her to leave. But frowning, she let her be and turned to look at Marco again.   
"Yeah." She said and clenched her fist. Anger, Marco thought. That was exactly the mood he was able to remember about her before the depression had taken a place. 

"You can remember it?" Ymir asked and Marco nodded slowly. Ymir frowned again and looked at everyone else, including Bert and Reiner, asking how did this happen but no one seemed to be awake of the affairs leading to it.   
"And you want me to tell more about it to make the memories match, right?" She assumed and Marco nodded again as if someone had stolen his tongue and ability to talk. Ymir knew him so well, no wonder, she had lived with him over 19 years now. 

And Ymir told him, told everyone, how she had fought against those guys, bricks, about twice bigger than she herself. She had taken hits, taken being called by names, but never let them to hurt her brother. She told about those days she had been left completely alone due the words she had said only to protect Marco. Her stuff had been stolen, edited pictures of her had leaked on the websites, telling how ugly she was. But she hadn't cared, until, resulting in being strong for too long, she had had to be absent from school because of regular difficulties to get out of the bed on mornings. But even on those days she had been absent, she hadn't stopped thinking about her brother, who'd be called by horrible names meanwhile she slept at home, nervously looking for options to help Marco.   
But that had made her to drown even deeper and waking up had been even more horrible. And knowing she was absent again and wouldn't be in a same school next year, she had tried to escape from the place she'd been taken to be taken care of. Resulting in the constant efforts to escape she had been given a strong medication, but not even under the influence of that medication, she hadn't forgot about Marco. 

In that part of the story Ymir stopped talking, staring at her feet. Christa hugged her for support and everyone was able to see that those memories had made her energy to vanish in the thin air.   
"And you know," she continued talking and smiled at Christa's gesture, "I'm glad you were strong and you still are. Look at you. You're missing the half of your memories and other leg. But still, you're smiling endlessly, without a fear of being mistreated. Marco, you're strong, and I've never regretted having you as my brother." 

Marco was moved by those words and he couldn't respond immediately. That was how Ymir had always thought about him, loved him and cared about him on her bad days. He recalled being grateful about that in his childhood and he felt the same now too. It was mostly to thank for Ymir about what he'd become now. His life would have been completely different without Ymir's effort. 

"I have to thank you too." He said and gulped. "You're an awesome sibling."   
The room was filled up with 'aww' sounds and it seemed like the serious and a bit of sad atmosphere was going to the opposite direction. Bertl brought up the subject of Marcos upcoming university studies and they ended up discussing school and exams and the subjects they were going to major in. Ymir wasn't so into studying so she had decided to work in a local factory as a 'storage-man' , or that was at least how she called herself. She was more than suitable enough for that job, being boyish and all. Reiner was going to major in maths with Bertholdt, which made Marco slightly surprised, but he knew he shouldn't judge people by how they looked like so he let it be for this time. 

"What are you going to major in?" Bertl asked and looked at Marco, smiling.   
"Yeah Marco, you haven't told us yet." Reiner added and patted Marco's shoulder friendly. Marco didn't startle this time, he had gotten used to it during the past weeks Reiner had spent time at their place.

"Psychology." He said smiling shyly. He hadn't told anyone about his plans yet as he had thought it'd be too girly to major in that subject. But it wasn't like that now, he knew these guys wouldn't judge him anyways.   
"I feel like I want to help people. People like me, you know. I want to learn more about brain injuries and the consequences of them. I want to help the ones who suffer from anxiety or depression and tell them that everything's gonna be okay, that everything is kind of temporary in this life. I want to return the care I've received." Marco said and smiled.  
The whole room went silent again. Marco thought for a second it was because these guys were shocked, but Bertl was quick to correct his misunderstanding.  
"Wow Marco, that's awesome." And everyone, including Ymir, kept nodding as a sign of agreement. Marco couldn't stop smiling, it felt great that his friends appreciated his ideas and he had possibilities to be just the way he was and study whatever he wanted. The university he had contacted, had announced that hearing his situation, they'd take him in without a matriculation exam. That also felt great, there seriously were people who cared. People who made his dream come true. He'd start studies within a week, what was a bit of scary, but it was the only way to the success. There was no secret paths for it.

The last week of his vacation passed quickly and it didn't include any more recalling memories- happenings, but Marco was happy with his life as it was. He had started to accept his new body and the fact he wouldn't be able to do everything exactly like the others. But his motto was that if you couldn't change something, you always could fix your attitude and see the difficulties as challenges instead, and believed in that he'd go far with that attitude. If far meant getting to the university on the very first day of it in his case, he'd make it happen.   
And so he did. 

Marco didn't have to wake up Ymir on that morning as his mother had woken up early and helped him and his wheelchair downstairs and everywhere. She boiled up some tea for Marco and called a taxi to take him to University even though Marco kept insisting on getting there easily by bus. But there was no arguing with his mom when she had decided something, so Marco gave in and let his mom to help him in to the taxi. She gave an encouraging smile when Marco's taxi left and told him she'd keep her fingers crossed, for what, that was something Marco didn't have time to catch. 

It wasn't a long drive to the university, so Marco had, as usually, a 30-minute-wait before his day started. He was happy noticing that the guys he had made friends with, as known as Reiner and Bert, were in the same university. Majoring mathematics, Marco reminded himself, that he wouldn't accidentally presume Reiner had something to do with sports, or something like that.   
He hanged out with them for some of the waiting time and then headed to his first lesson, first psychology lesson in university ever. When heading towards the right classroom, or at least Marco assumed it was the right one, he heard a familiar sound calling   
"Hey you familiar guy with freckles! Do you remember me?"

Marco turned around with his wheelchair hearing the word freckles. And to his surprise he saw that girl he had met in the shop on last summer. She was carrying a new looking book with her, saying 'psychology' on its cover.  
"You're majoring in psychology too or are you just taking these classes? And you were.. Sasha, right?" Marco asked, eager to find out if he had found already someone who was majoring in the same subject.

"Yeah, I'm majoring in psychology that's right." She said smiling happily and offered for her help to get Marco in the class. It wasn't too crowded yet, so they had good time finding a good place from the middle line. Sasha sat next to him and started having her breakfast on the desk. Marco didn't ask questions about it and politely refused wanting to have some of her food. Their teacher was a man in his thirties with some beard and mustache on his face. He introduced himself as Mike Zacharius and due to his difficult surname, asked them to call him just Mike. He seemed quite quiet, Marco thought, but his lesson was something Marco could describe astonishing, as Mr. Zacharius' teaching style and the exact facts he had in his examples were something Marco had always hoped to learn. 

He couldn't stop praising his new psychology teacher when they walked, or Marco went with his wheelchair, on the corridors or when they had their lunch. Coming to this university had been more than a dream come true to him and he had enjoyed studying from the bottom of his heart even during the very first lessons. He was heading for the next class when he remembered leaving his pencil case to the place where they had their lunch in. His friends offered for their help, but Marco wanting to be independent, said he could manage on his own. 

He waved to others and headed to where he supposed his pencil case was, but the corridor was full of people, what made his movements pretty slow. He had to stop for a minute to wait that the group passing him would give him and to his wheelchair, room to move on the corridor. They were too into discussing current affairs of modeling and stuff, so they didn't even notice Marco stopping there. While waiting he heard the sound of door cracking open and he turned his head to see who was going to block his way this time. The guy, who came from the art class, seemed familiar with his long facial features and two-toned hair, but Marco couldn't immediately recall who this guy was. 

After a while of pondering, Marco finally remembered seeing this guy on summer, three weeks ago. And actually he wasn't just an ordinary guy passing by, he was that Jean who had apparently appeared in his dreams before waking up from a coma. Marco was up to call his name and say hi to him, as he felt like talking to this guy somehow. But he stopped himself, discovering that this guy didn't seem to be too okay at that moment.   
This guy, who was definitely that same Jean from the summer, held his hand on his chest as if being afraid what was going on with his heart. His body seemingly trembled uncontrollably when he tried to sit on a sofa on the corridor, his eyes closed. 

Marco couldn't just leave him there, even though he didn't know what was going on with Jean. He felt a big urge helping him and went a bit closer with his wheelchair to see Jean closer. He had succeeded in sitting on the sofa and had pressed his head against his knees, shaking. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Marco asked and Jean, hearing his voice lifted his head up a bit and looked at Marco sadly, without saying a word. His shaking had taken a pause for a second but it took control of him again within the following seconds and he went back to the position he had been before Marco had said anything.

"Jean, I want to help you. Come here." Marco said, noticing that he had accidentally called Jean by his first name. He didn't mean to do so, it had just slipped somehow. Unconsciously.   
Jean looked at Marco confused, but actually stood up from the sofa and took two steps towards Marco. And what he did next, was a complete surprise to Marco and to he himself. 

"No... I- I'm not okay." He said stuttering and continued   
"Just hold me, Mar..co just hold me." He begged and stepped close to Marcos wheelchair and pulled him to a tight hug. Marco was surprised for sure, but he couldn't step back anymore as he had inquired for Jean's condition in the first place. So he hugged Jean back and instinctively started to pet his hair to make him to calm down. 

"Don't be afraid Jean, everything's gonna be okay, I promise." Marco said and kept petting Jean's hair until his shaking seemed to decrease. To Marco this situation was completely random, but he thought that to Jean, he had been the only one to come for his rescue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety, giggling, Reiner and Donuts, that's all one can ask for?

Panic attacks, Jean had started to suffer from them two weeks after Martine's death. He didn't know what caused them and hadn't been too eager to discover the reasons, so sometimes as they took place without giving any sings of the coming attack beforehand, he felt like he was going to lose his mind.  
The attacks didn't luckily occur at school, often, what made it a lot easier for him. But today during his art class early in the morning, he had struggled to concentrate the whole time and ended up to escape to the corridors as the feeling of suffocation had spread through his throat and lungs. He had told a white lie about having a call to answer to his teacher, so he had been able to leave the class pretty smoothly. But what followed his adventure out of the classroom, happened out of blue to Jean, who had gotten used to surviving on his own.

There he was, held tight by the same guy he had wanted to talk to since their meeting last summer. Marco's long and skinny fingers felt good as they stroked his a little wavy hair. It felt like as if Marco had done this before and knew somehow what was the best for making him calm down. 

"You're going to miss your class.." Jean stated with voice trembling. 

"It's okay." Marco said and just sat there, holding him tight, until the shaking seemed to decrease and Jean's lips turned in a little smile.

"Okay? You seem to be one of those types to be always on time and to be overwhelmed by irritation whenever they're late. Am I right?"

Marco, in a way, inched back in his wheelchair. Jean thought it was because he had gotten it right, suspecting him to be one of 'sticking into timetable'- personas who never missed a second - or moreover, a class.  
"I can buy you a watch If missing a class causes you to stress that much Marco." Jean chuckled, but it was a short of a laugh as he discovered the reason behind Marco's inching: a group of younger girls covered with mass product Jeans and hoodies, from tip to toe. Their make-up resembled more the ones Jean had seen in drag queen shows, or at least their eyebrows were drawn that way. Old times, good times, when the eyebrows were still there, Jean thought and looked up to Marco, who had gotten totally red from his face.

"Oh my Godd that's so disgusting.. Look he's having his head on his lap.. Ew like can't they go and get a room, not in the corridors.." One of the girls whispered to her friend who was straining to see better, what was going on.

Jean blinked a moment hearing the blabbering as a constant flow in his head without getting a word. He thought the reaction was a consequence of presently faded panic attack and the exhaustion spreading to his brain, making thinking become as unchallenging as surviving from a desert. Talking about which, his throat felt like after swallowing a desert as he attempted to argue with this girl about his misleading position.

"Jean.. Um why are you kneeling there?" Marco stuttered and looked at him, blushing even more. Jean blinked again, being marked by a slow ability to get the picture, he finally started to become more aware of the situation he was involved in. He hadn't intended to act like he did, by no means, but somehow, inevitably, he had gotten himself kneeling in front of Marco and leaning his head on his lap. If that didn't appear to be suspicious, Jean didn't know what did then.

The girls' talk was blocking Jean's every thought as he tried to speak up to solve the situation, blood rushing on his cheeks and his heart beating. He didn't really know the right words for solution so he kept on kneeling and blinking, as if he truly had been caught intending to pleasure Marco in the middle of the corridor.  
"Jean.. Why are you kneeling?" Marco repeated his question, biting his lip in nervousness. Marco, in all probability, was more jittery in comparison to Jean, whose brain had faced a massive fart, going offline for hours.

"It feels good." Jean said yawning and almost fell asleep in the position he was currently in. Marco, being unable to respond his behavior quickly enough, let out a sigh and kept petting his hair as he had done a minute ago. As the girls had disappeared, the position didn't seem to bother him any longer that much, what made Jean to be able to relax completely.  
"You get clingy when you are tired, don't you?" Marco asked cautiously, as if being afraid to wake him up from the state of relaxation.

Jean bit his lip. His brain got a slight flashback from long time ago, him getting too clingy with Mikasa.  
"Uh. Kinda, I suppose." He replied and stood up, looking around and checking the time. They had been there almost for half an hour. It was no use hurrying anymore. 

"What causes these attacks?" Marco asked offering a hand to Jean, helping him to sit on the couch again. 

Jean didn't want to answer even though he knew, he totally knew the answer, but it was too painful to talk about it now with a completely stranger. Marco wasn't a stranger though, they had met last time on the summer, on summer, when Marco had resembled Martine more than anyone Jean had met before. But Martine was now gone, for life.

"I don't know." Jean stated and glanced at the floor avoiding straight eye contact with this guy. He din't want to talk. No. Not in here at least. 

"You do know." Marco said with a sigh and leaned forward in his wheelchair.  
"I'm not a psychiatrist, but I can clearly spot the glimpse of sadness in your eyes. You know, it's no good to conceal your emotions. They will find a way to burst out regardless of how much you put effort in it." 

Jean looked up in Marco's eyes, they were shining in the thousands of colors of concern. He wanted to talk, wanted to tell him everything but that all, had gotten stuck in his throat, burning it like fire from time to time.  
"It's complicated." He said and turned his face to look at the floor again, but his movements were blocked by a gentle but firm grip on his hair. Such a power, Jean thought not truly feeling angry neither happy about it.

"It's okay if it's complicated." Marco said and smiled a little. Jean couldn't read his mind so getting the gist of the brainwork behind that smile was something he found challenging. Truly challenging.  
"And it's okay if you don't want to talk about it." He continued. What was his point then if he didn't want to hear the truth? Troublesome, to Jean's mind.

"But will you answer one question I have for you?" Jean nodded, he guessed it was a fair game, he had gotten help in return already, so questions were good. Completely okay.

"Who is Martine?" Jean blinked. Did he get that right? Marco wanting to know who's Martine? He felt the anxiety arising inside of him, not that topic. Not now. He shook his head as a sign of unwillingness to answer, Marco looked confused and repeated the question, Jean was able to feel the heartbeat in his head. No. Not that question.

"No." He said and stood up, vision getting more blurry over seconds he spent standing his back straight as a pole, his legs shaking. He didn't want to talk about her, not at school. 

"No?" Marco repeated, looking concerned and went closer with his wheelchair. Jean was shaking like a leaf in the wind.  
"Jean, calm down. You don't have to answer. It's okay." Marco said and gripped Jean's shaky wrist to comfort him and bring him to the state of peace.  
"I'm not letting you go until you get your shit together." Marco continued and Jean was amazed to hear a kind-looking guy like him swearing. He had thought the nerds never swore, they just read, drank tea and smiled, without concerns or depression, getting good grades.. 

Jean froze. Martine's grip. Her words. Exactly the same.  
He furrowed his brows together and looked at his wrist, Marco was holding it in a way that had made Jean calm down years ago, in exactly same way Martine had held him when he was about to snap at her, getting hot under the collar.  
He turned back to look at Marco. There had been something bothering him in this guy since they had met the first time. It wasn't his appearance, that exactly resembled a reflection of Martine's newly born male shape, it wasn't that. It was his behavior. Even though it had been a while now since Jean saw Martine or was held by her, he was able to recognize those little acts, little familiar glances Marco shot at him in a way Martine had done before. 

"Or maybe I'm just going crazy." Jean sighed and sat back on the couch. He was already jumping around in the corridors like a lost newbie, great, he thought. 

"You're going crazy?" Marco asked and tilted his head to the right, alike to a little puppy trying to get someones attention. Martine had done that too. She had smiled after having her head like that and laughed. Laughed, like the laugh had rubbed off on Jean and his soul had felt so light. So light that everything bad in his life seemed to disappear. 

Marco laughed.  
"If you are going crazy, then I'm totally insane. C'mon Jean. It's totally okay."  
Jean blinked again, it was okay? The lost smile on his lips, returned and he found himself laughing with Marco, laughing so loud that it aroused the interest of the principal and he paid a visit inquiring if everything was okay. 

"We're totally okay." Jean said laughing and slapped Marco's shoulder asking him to stop. He found it hard to stop laughing if someone was doing the same. So in the end, they were sent back to their classes, Jean to draw half naked men with pencils and Marco reading about insomnia with Sasha. It had been quite a day for him, a panic attack, memories and stress. But Jean thought he was going to manage this year, or even another in row. As he now had gotten a new friend to light up his days, a new freckled person to hold his wrist when he was angry enough to destroy everything around him. 

It actually felt good, Jean thought as he kept sketching the muscular guy posing in front of the art class. He had always loved art and didn't really care about the models anymore. First it had been disturbing for sure, seeing someone completely stranger posing there, only boxers on, or even worse, nothing covering him.  
He had always been sort of an shy guy when it came to nudity, found it hard to swim with his classmates for example. It had been a nightmare, thousands of teenager girls, who he had not even slight interest in, staring at his not-too-muscular body that he was afraid to show off at any point. A nightmare.  
Jean chuckled. He recalled a memory from years ago. He had wanted to practice drawing bodies and needing a model for that, had asked his friends from the secondary school to strip a shirt for him. It wasn't that sort of an act, he hadn't been interested in nothing more than art and development in it. But as time passed, he had developed kind of an obsession to drawing bodies, especially male bodies.

It was a little gayish, Jean knew. But he didn't care about it that much as there were no rules in art. He was the artist and could decide whatever he wanted to do with the piece of art. Everything was just temporary for him, but his passion for art seemed to last. He had gotten that far, he was planning to arrange an exhibition, exhibition of pencil works and drawings, paintings and portraits. But there was one painting that beat them all sketches, every single portrait he had drawn. It was a picture of Martine, sitting on a bench in the local park, her dark long hair shining in the sunshine.  
Jean grinned. He wanted to paint Marco someday. He didn't know why on earth he felt like doing that, but in his opinion the male version of Martine ought to be painted on canvas. He had an urge to do that. He sure did.

***  
The following day Marco was having his lunch with Bert and Sasha in the Uni's cafeteria. Or 'lunch' one would say, as it consisted of various sorts of donuts and cola. Reiner had brought them on his way to the next class, so Marco had no intention to complain, it was free food anyway and what is more, he hadn't wanted to be thrown away with his wheelchair by furious Reiner, so he gladly kept his mouth shut as munching the chocolate donut he had been given.  
He nearly moaned at how good it was.

"Whoa Bert, where did you guys get these donuts? They're so heavenly delicious!" Marco asked his mouth full of chocolate filling. Bert grinned.

"Someone I know, loves to bake a little." 

"Huh? Reiner?" Marco was confused to imagine him with an apron on, baking all kinds of cute cupcakes and so on. It didn't just suit him somehow. 

"Yea, he's into cute stuff you kno- ow!" Reiner had appeared behind him pinching his cheek. 

"Your ears are red from lying, don't tell that bullshit to them you cute-fluffy-stuff-lover." Bert blushed.

"He's actually the one to bake. Yesterday we had really fun baking.. Didn't we?" Reiner teased and slightly hugged Bert. He said nothing, just pulled Reiner from his collar to sit next to him. He handed over a yellow, Marco didn't know what donut that was, to Reiner and smilingly stated

"Here, have a big banana donut. You seem to like them anyway." The whole table bursted in laugh, especially Sasha, who almost spilled cola on her shirt. Reiner didn't laugh though, he just took the donut and started eating, raising an eyebrow at Bert. He wasn't angry, Marco could tell, but he was sure to say that there was something going on between them. More friends with benefits, he thought. It surely was that.

"That's a little gay Reiner." Marco said laughing and ate the rest of his donut, drinking a little cola with it. 

Reiner turned to look at him, grinning again. "But weren't you the one to act gay on corridors yesterday?" "Oh you don't cry.. Come here on my lap, right there, pat pat.." He imitated pulling confused Bert on his lap for a second, roughly petting his hair. Sasha nearly choked on her cola.

"Enough enough, lemme eat here." She coughed and looked at Marco.

"He was helping me." Someone said, appearing behind Reiner, who stopped acting and lifted Bert back on his own place. 

"Huh?" 

"You heard, he was helping me as I felt bad. I don't think it was that gay, was it?" Jean repeated and walked to Marco, who turned around with his wheelchair.

"Oh hi Jean. Feeling any better today?" Marco asked and flashed a smile at him. He felt like they had become friends enough to call each other with their real names, even to talk to each other randomly. It felt nice in his opinion, even though he had found Jean a little weird months before.

Jean nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I thought um, if I could ask you something?"  
Reined giggled in the background, Marco turned to slap him slightly on the shoulder but hit Bert instead, that lead again him to be checked by the over protective not-his-boyfriend Reiner.

"Mm, go ahead Jean. Sorry for the.. Interruption." Marco said and slapped Bert again.

"Stop hitting me Marco I've done nothing!" He shrieked and resulting in laughing too much, Sasha dropped her empty cola can on the floor with a loads of noise that got some students to stare at her.  
"Geez guys, can't you behave?" Marco laughed and turned back to Jean. "Sorry. What was your question?" 

Jean rubbed the back of his head. Marco thought he didn't know the right words to express his question so he waited and let Jean to take his time. They weren't in a hurry anyway, or at least not yet. Marco could never tell what was going to happen with these guys.

"Uh.. You know I love art and so on.. So I thought if I could kind of a.. Paint you?" 

"Paaaint me like one of your French guuurls.." Reiner imitated, not for long though, as Bert slapped a hand in front his mouth to make him shut up, whispering something about social manners and acceptable behavior. Marco rolled eyes at them.

"Um, paint me?" He asked, assuring if he had gotten it right.

Jean nodded again. "Yeah. I also wanted to show one painting to you and explain about the stuff you asked yesterday.. But if you don't want to it's okay you know.. I just love art as you know and I consider you a new friend of mine so.." He mumbled.

Marco raised a hand to interrupt is speaking.  
"Wait wait, hold on, not so fast. Lemme answer your question first." 

Jean looked at him, his mouth hanging open as a result of stopped blabbering.

"Yeah, sorry.. What's your answer?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4th chapter finally done! Sorry for all the grammatical errors and brain farts (once I wrote that Marco walked somewhere, deer gud.) but anyway thanks for reading and thanks for the kudos etc~ Hope you enjoyed my really bad sense of humour. Pfff.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight lines with a paintbrush.

"Yeah.. Sorry, what's your answer?" Jean asked, feeling his heartbeat to take a little more speed second by second. It wasn't that irregular a question after all, was it? Was it odd to ask your new friend to pose for you that you could paint him, paint his flawless cheekbones and add a little shading under them.. And blend the color, add some freckles.. Was it? 

Or wait a minute, did it sound too gay in the end? That was something Jean questioned in his little head as he stood there and played with a lonely tress to relieve his anxiety. It wasn't that easy to ask things like that straight in front of Reiner and Bertl especially, because they were guys who Jean had known since childhood. Sasha was there also, but she seemed too busy to notice that it was actually him, Jean the anxious Kirschtein. 

"Why wont you join us anyway Jeanbo?" Reiner asked and still chuckled a little, having Bertl pinching him from time to time to prevent the chuckles leaving his throat. Jean turned to look at him and his eyes widened in a glare.

"I didn't feel good earlier and excuse us but you interrupted Mr. Freckles speaking. "Jean needed just an answer, nothing else. And Reiner queue jumping in the speaking order made him slightly irritated.

"Hey, no need to get frustrated, okay?" Marco said and smiled. Oh yea, frustrated. Jean thought but brushed off the pervy thoughts crossing his mind that moment. That was a way too inappropriate, wasn't it?

"But yes." Marco added and smiled the most angelic smile Jean had ever seen. Martines smile had been exactly the same. Brown shiny eyes, shiny hair, soft lips, turning into a smile before they met his.. 

"A-.. Uh? Yes what?" Jean pulled himself off from his distractive thoughts, or so called fantasy. His plan was doomed from the beginning he knew, but all he could do for now was to wait for Marco's answer.

Marco laughed again. "I mean, my answer is yes. Yeah, you are free to paint me and free to talk to me about anything you want to. Would tomorrow evening be good?" Jean's jaw nearly dropped on the floor.

"You, you just said yes?" He asked and went to take Marcos hands in his own. He could have spun this guy up in the air due to the happiness spinning his stomach and brain over. 

"Yes I did." Marco chuckled and shot a glance at Reiner behind him. Reiner sure had a smug grin on his face but Jean was too high on happiness to notice anything. All he could see in that moment was tomorrow evening and the painting session he had dreamed of. It felt like a dream come true. 

***

After a while of chatting and laughing, it was time for everyone to head back to their classes. Reiner and Bertl in maths, Jean to his art class and Sasha and Marco to their psychology class.   
Jean was too excited about everything that had happened, so it was quite a task to concentrate in his recent artwork that had muscular men holding kittens on it. It was a bit ridiculous, Jean knew that well, but in the end all he wanted with his artworks was to get peoples' heads turn and to get them to stop and take a closer look at the men. That was what he wanted, people to notice every single perfect detail from dimples to armpit hair and back.

He wasn't ashamed of his art, vice versa, he was proud to stand out from the crowd that drew tiny cute butterflies on every single paper they got in their hands. Jean didn't find nature themes boring though, but anatomy was the thing that fascinated him the most. He stood proudly behind his works even though there was an opportunity to be blamed as a body-fetishist. A bad one fetishist. 

"Drawing penises again, huh?" Someone asked with a deep voice and patted a hand on Jean's shoulder. Jean nearly chocked on his pencil as that comment startled him violently out of his peaceful-art-creating mode.

It was Reiner, who else it could have been.

"Wha-what on earth are you doing here?? Aren't you supposed to be drawing them stupid circles with your Bertsy there in math class?" Jean shrieked and felt shivers running down his spine. He didn't like to be startled when he was making art. Not at all.

"Nah. I was told to come here to look for some equipments for our research project and I thought I could come and say hi to the shy horsie here, isn't that nicely thought?" 

"Yea, really nicely thought." Jean said and tried to continue drawing the fur of the kitten he had to finish due today. He spoke with his teeth clenched all together because it wasn't too pleasant to him to be interrupted when having a strict timetable like this.

"Anyway, actually I came here because something about that Marco-dude bothers me a bit." Jean turned to Reiner and raised an eyebrow at him. "What about him?"

"I mean, you know, he is a brother of friend of mine. Ymir, you remember her?" Jean nodded. Sure he did.

"Yea, but don't you think he looks like your girlfriend a bit? Like I could swear to God he is Martine or something.." Reiner continued and furrowed his brows together. Jean didn't actually expect this conversation to happen, not with Reiner at least.

"My ex-girlfriend who died in a horrible accident a year ago. And yes, when I first saw him I definitely thought she had came back somehow. But Martine is dead and stays that way, no matter how much we hope Marco to be her." Jean sighed and shook his head, continuing

"You know, I've heard he had been in coma for years, and that doesn't match with Martine at all. And I believe that miracles such as Martine's rebirth as Marco, or her soul transferring to him don't even exist. They just resemble each other, that's all." 

"How come you can be so sure?" Reiner asked and shrugged. "Miracles do happen. Maybe Marco recalls his memories slowly and is able to tell you what happened to him?"

"Let's not get too excited yet. I am planning to tell him about Martine and see how he reacts to that. Though there is only a little chance that he could even have known her, or to be related or even be her. What sounds way too absurd to me at least."

"Boring pessimist." Reiner said and laughed. "Anyway have fun painting your man half naked." He said and left the room waving at Jean, grinning.

Jean nodded and just when Reiner left the room he became fully aware what he had just nodded at. A comment about Marco being his man and being painted half naked by him. Jean bit his lip and didn't say a word. He would find Reiner in his hands later and give him a lesson about how to not to pair up Jean with everyone. But when he thought about it from a different perspective, he didn't have the right to complain in the first place, as it had been Reiner who had introduced Martine to him some years ago. 

***  
Autumn just reminds me of my heartache,  
As the leaves slip away just like you

And winter's never ever been so lonely,  
I'm so scared someone's holding you

And though I know,  
It's over,   
I'm still here hanging on,  
Forever can't be over ..

"Oh I'm still missing you.." Jean whispered, as he nearly sang with the song he was playing on his mp3 while walking to his old art school nearby. The song he was listening to reminded him of Martine, even though the song itself was more about longing after a loved one who had left and was still alive, while Martine wasn't. Martine was gone, for good and wouldn't come back regardless of how much Jean tried to sing about the lost he had suffered.

At least Jean had made new friends such as this Marco-guy, who was now waiting him at the school already. They had swapped numbers and had an interesting midnight convo about art and male bodies in the meantime the place and time for painting progress had been decided. Jean's old art school had been an obvious choice due to it's friendly reputation and free, but old, art galleries to night-use for lonely souls and artists like Jean was. 

The free galleries to work in had their rules though, and if even one of them was to be broken the user of the room would be given a ban to the rooms and that was something Jean didn't want to achieve. So before entering the gallery he checked the rules at least ten times and printed them out, handing one rule paper over Marco as he pushed his chair in. 

"Oh hi freckles, I thought you'd be here waiting for me already?" Jean said as he saw his friend to roll in with his chair. He looked good and charming as always. 

"Hey man, I'm sorry I couldn't find the elevator downstairs so it took a bit longer. I'm glad to see that you aren't anxious anymore by the way." Marco replied and flashed his million-dollar smile, Jean felt like his legs were about to melt just there.

"U-uh yeah.. Art helps me a lot to keep my shit together." Jean laughed a bit forcefully, hoping Marco wouldn't notice the odd ringing on it. He took his artist tool box and put it on the table, sitting next to the brushes he had put on it a minute ago. Marco dragged his wheelchair closer and took a peek at the oil colors Jean had in a perfect rainbow-colored order in his box. Marco smiled. 

"You're some sort of a perfectionist, aren't you?" He took one tube out of the box and swapped its place with another one, mixing up Jean's order, to see how'd he react to that. 

"Hey- hey what... Did you just do?" Jean yelped and swapped the tubes on their right places. He wasn't a perfectionist, he just loved order in a way, and disliked it when people went around and touched his art equipments for instance. Because when they did it, he wasn't able to find the pencils he needed afterwards and the erasers he had saved because they were the best to be found. That's why he was extra cautious when it came to his oil paints and brushes tonight.

"I mixed up your rainbow." Marco said and stuck his tongue out at Jean for a moment. Jean just shook his head and laughed. Marco had no idea how he was little by little seriously mixing up Jean's rainbows. He hadn't admitted it to himself yet though that he had a slight crush on this guy, but he wanted to take it slow and get to know him. Get to know why he resembled Martine so much in general.

"Alright, so I guess we are ready." Jean said and pushed Marco's wheelchair to the other side of the room, across from his painting stand that he would have the best view to his model in business. He started sketching Marco on the canvas in order to have the best measures and more importantly the right ones. Nothing wasn't more horrible to Jean's mind than being in a mode of adding the finishing touches to the work and discovering that for example the right eye is in the wrong place when compared to the left one. That was why, again, he was very cautious and detailed at what he did.

In the middle of the sketching Marco decided to talk instead.   
"By the way, you said you wanted to talk about that girl, didn't you?" He asked and fixed his position, flashing the killer smile to Jean again. Jean, to his surprise, was able to continue the sketching with a steady hand and his voice, without trembling, answered;  
"Ah, Martine. She was actually my girlfriend a year ago."

"Was? Did you guys break up?" Marco asked and looked at Jean who seemed like he wanted to sink behind the painting stand and disappear because of the change of the subject.

"In a way, yeah." Jean said and gulped. "She died one year ago. In an accident." 

Marco covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss. I didn't know.." 

"It's okay." Jean said and continued. "I actually wanted to tell a bit about her to you because you guys seem to be a lot alike. Or I don't know, whether it is my imagination or Reiner's insane jokes, but at times it feels like as if you'd been reborn as her." 

Marco seemed surprised but also curious to know more about Martine, the girl who had led one year ago and been like his long lost sister. And Jean told him. Told him about how they had drank tea with Martine in the cold fall evening and cuddled. How Martine had gotten a flu after that and she had had to stay at home for a week to get rid of the fever the flu had caused.   
Told about how those years had been the happiest so far to Jean, who had always been used to being alone, alone with his sketch book. But one day Reiner had walked into his house and told there was a young lady, who had had a crush in him for a long time. Looking back, that wasn't the most formal way to try to get someone to go out with your friend, but in the end it had worked out, more than perfectly.

He told also about how they had fallen in love pretty quickly and had their first kiss in the middle of freezing November as the snowflakes fell. Told about the November he didn't have to freeze alone at home because he had had his girlfriend next to him, playing stupid games with her mobile. 

The last part of the story wasn't as happy as the others were and Jean's eyes didn't shine at all as he mentioned the affairs that had caused the horrible traffic accident, leading to Martine's death.   
Only if he hadn't betrayed her trust and fought with Eren the jackass.. Only if. 

"She was really beautiful, that's why I painted her. The painting is my well kept treasure, just like Martine was." Jean ended his story and let the nearly empty room to swallow his voice into the silence. Marco didn't say a word in a while, he just sat still, modeling.

"Martines death caused the attacks, right?" He asked and got a single nod in response, nothing more. That was enough for Marco, who had wanted to know the reason behind Jean's obvious panic attacks in order to be able to help him the next time they took place. 

"Jean, you know. This may sound odd, but I promise that I won't leave you alone with those attacks nor the sad emotions the death of your girlfriend caused. And also, we are going to investigate this Martine case together and find out who she really was, and who I really am. Because I am missing the other half of my life and it would be nice to get it back."

Jean smiled and could feel his eyes tearing up.   
"T-thank you Marco."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sorry for the hiatus ;-; I had my graduation and all that, so I was damn busy. Hope you enjoyed!


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